NeverWhere
by cori
Summary: Brian and Curt take a trip to this place called Neverwhere. Coloured lots. Read/Review!!
1. Getting Train

A/N: it's VG! yay. Its slash ((duh!)) B/C ((duh!)). The boys go on vacation and talk about there past. Filler fic. There might be smut in upcoming chapters, but don't count on it. I don't like writing smut at all. 

The rating is prolly an R.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine. Every lyric, Tori or otherwise, isn't mine either. I stole the title from Neil Gaimans book _Neverwhere. Go read __Neverwhere. And __House of Leaves and all of the __Sandman books. Yeah... on with the fic! _

**_-NeverWhere-_**

****

Brian hated flying. He hated take off, he hated landing, he hated being in the air, but most of all, Brian hated those very cramped, very uncomfortable airplane seats. So they took the train.

It was three ten on the train and Brian was quietly watching the _white grey white grey brown brown brown of nature swirl past him; Curt was sleeping soundly on his shoulder.      _

"Tea, sir?"

"No, thank you." Brian smiled softly at the young boy with dark hair, then returned to watching the blur of scenery fly by him. _grey__ white grey white brown brown green. The slight change in colour vaguely amused Brian's mind and he chuckled softly to himself._

"Hi."

"Hi."

Curt stretched, slightly turning his head upward so that he could see Brian.

"So."

"So."

The pair smiled at each other once more before Curt spoke.

"Where are we going?"

The two boys had earlier decided that it was not the destination that mattered, but the journey, absolutely. So clad in all black and dark sunglasses, Curt and Brian set out on their little adventure, buying a train ticket each to where ever the next stop was.

Brian shrugged gently, softly saying "I'm not sure." 

"That's ok." Curt's eyes shone at Brian gently. _Blue green grey green blue gold. His eyes were a beautiful maze of word and song and colour. His eyes were so much life. _

"NeverWhere."

"What?"

"NeverWhere. I think that's where we are going." As odd as the thought was, Curt dismissed it shrugging inwardly. He cupped Brian's chin in his hand slowly running his over the Angel lips.

"You're such a Nowhere Faerie," he sang to Brian gently in his whisper soft grey voice. "You're such a Nowhere Boy." He smiled one last time, kissing Brian softly on the cheek then once again, nodding off. 

The train journey continued one like that; the tea boy, as Brian began to call him, coming every thirty minutes to ask if he wanted tea. This bothered Brian because although he knew it was the young mans job, he couldn't help but be reminded of a small, impatient child on a car trip repeatedly asking "Are we there yet?"

When the stepped off the train outside, the world looked thick and beautiful. The world looked crystalized in grey and orange. The world looked together. 

Looking at it, the felt as if they were on another planet, on this NeverWhere journey, in the Tomorrow land.

and it was ok.

_________


	2. Happy B

"So, we're here aren't we?"

"Yeah we are." They looked very softly into each other's eyes. "You wanna go find a place to stay?" Brian asked while slipping his sunglasses on.

"Um sure. I guess we should. You want me to call for a taxi?"

"Yeah." Brian sighed to himself, brushing a piece of longish, brown hair from his face. During the past few months, the two boys had begun to grow their hair longer for no reason other than to piss Jerry off.

The taxi arrived a few minutes later and holding hands lightly, the boys piled themselves into the back seat. They were very tired. Brian was tired, Curt was tired, so they just piled in silently; Curt lounging against the window and Brian next to him, his leg thrown over Curt's and his head on his shoulder. Tired and beautiful. Very, very beautiful.

"Hey, hey. Bri, babe wake up, we're here." Curt paid the driver and gently pushed Brian off of him so he could retrieve their things from the trunk of the old _yellow green brown blue taxi. Stretching his lithe body, Brian yawned and stepped out of the car, thanking the driver and he drove away in a cloud of lovely gray mist._

The next few moments were a bit of a blur for both Curt and Brian, but somehow they ended up in a medium sized hotel, dragging themselves into bed. 

"I'm tired Brian." It was a simple statement, one that you could see into and dig into and swim around in, it made Curt's voice crack.

"I know." Brian wrapped his arms around Curt tightly, stroking his hair nicely, gently, soothing him lightly and putting the both to sleep.

Brian never liked the night. He didn't like the way memories and thoughts and colours and people would creep up on you at night. He didn't like the night creatures that swam through his head and made him wonder about things left behind. He didn't always like to remember.

People think. They always do. People always think. Sometimes they're wrong. Curt was dark, Brian was light. Curt was rough, Brian wasn't. Curt was haunted

and 

so was Brian.

Sometimes people think. Sometimes they just don't realize.

_______

The sun shone in the room through thin, _white curtains. __White and __frosty yellow and **sun. The sun shone in through the window, tangled with **__gold, tangled with __silver. __Silver danced in special stardust ways, residue from the silver grey moon, waking Brian gently, rousing his mind slightly, and prodding him out of bed._

He slipped his body from the sheets, heading towards the window. He stared out just watching quietly as the world did worldly things, waking up and greeting him with special colours, and songs from beautiful birds, simply because he was Brian and Brian was special. He opened the curtains wide allowing the silver grey white yellow of the sun to caress his face.

Brian loved the morning. Loved it because it wasn't night. Loved it because it didn't swallow you whole, make you feel little and scared. Loved it because it held you and guided your breathe instead of squeezing your throat tight and suffocating you to death. But mostly, Brian loved it because he liked to watch Curt sleep.

Curt was a beautiful sleeper, a very pretty dreamer. Curt was soft and easy in sleep and his ever demanding problems forgotten. He was almost child like.

All of these things seemed to make Brian feel very light and airy. He airily touched Curt's cheek, his forehead, brushed a piece of that light, airy, beautiful, brown hair from his face and then wandered off to the grey carpet in the center of the room. 

Dropping to the floor, lying on his back Brian breathed in the silence because for once it wasn't too thick, for once it was comfortable, for once it was ok. He breathed in the silence and stretched out on the carpet making rug angels, not even feeling foolish because rug angels were the best kind and because they made Brian just a little bit happier.

Curt found him like that some time later,--time because things like minutes and hours didn't matter to pretty things like rock stars and because here they simply didn't matter at all-- sprawled out on the softy grey rug with a thin smile on his face. Curt looked down on him as though he'd lost his mind. Brian didn't care because things, little things like thoughts and opinions, didn't matter right now; instead he just reached his hand up to Curt and croaked "I haven't lost my mind, love. Just misplaced it, only for a little while." He smiled a friendly gentle smile. "Come here, love. Come lay down with me." He did. He gasped on to Brian's hand and didn't let go. And they held hands like that, the two of them on the floor, not speaking or moving, just breathing in the silence and feeling each other's souls.

"Bri?" Curt asked after awhile. 

"Yeah."

"Do you ever just feel happy? Like really filled and content?" He smiled a small smile, a perfect little smile because he knew what Curt was speaking about and knew what Curt was feeling because for once he was feeling it too.

"Yes." He rolled over, wrapping his leg around Curt's. "I feel very happy now."

It was almost like a dance, this game of theirs. Brian would smile a sly, mischievious smile and Curt would duck his head; only to return it with fire burning in his eyes. This is how it happened that afternoon. A little more confident, a little more. They became wrapped up in each other, a tangle of sweaty arms and legs. Bruising kisses and heated word. And finally a softy glow filled the room. Filled it gold purple grey red. Filled it beautiful. They settled back on the grey carpet, eyes dancing, singing praises. They held hand drinking up the silences, breathing in their passion. Just a little bit closer and a little bit more together. 

They love being happy.

_________


	3. SunPLay: Loving Lilies Blue

SunPlay

He woke up a bit later, once again, before Curt. He watched him roll to Brian. How lovely. Brian's mind had a way of wandering over things, dancing and trippin' along thoughts; he thought too much. In all of this useless thinking, Brian realised that they were almost completely unaware of their surroundings. Brian hated that, and with one last stroke to Curt's hair he got up to get dressed and write Curt a note.

_Curt-_

_We don't know where we are._

_-B_

It was a random, nonsensical little thing, but Brian was sure that Curt would understand it. 

He zipped up his jacket before heading outside. He was wearing normal clothes; nothing like a glittering rock star would wear. But inspite of all his dull grey, his nuetral, earth toney colours, Brian was still beautiful, as he always would be.

He stepped outside, letting the cool air run over his body. He stepped out side and looked around, so much beautiful. The world was stunning him, slowly taking his breath away, killing him gently with its splendor. And suddenly he felt almost like an outsider amongst these pretty things, the lush greens, the sinking reds, the soaring yellows, Almost.   
  


So Much Beautiful.

_________

_Loving Lilies Blue_

Chance was being lovely to them. Chance was being good. Sublime beauty, beauty sublime. Beauty everywhere. Trees, gardens, streams, ponds and Brian's personal favourite, the field. Brian, he was never much of an outdoor person. He didn't like dirt, bugs... dirt. But here, everything seemed different, felt different. It felt, seemed new and clean and bugless.

The field was captivating. It was wonderful, much like one any child would have longed to play in. Long, tall blades of green and brown swished, swished as Brian walked through them, lovingly tickled his skin as he floated through them. Yes, Brian loved the field. Loved it as he lay down on it, as the cold warm night washed over him, loved it as he fell asleep.

In the earliest of morning, someone stood over him. Someone was radiating happywhite over him. Someone stood over him a little misty-teary eyed, smile then said, "I missed you." Smiled again and said, "I missed you a lot. Why'd you go away?"

"We don't No Where we are."

"I know." Someone, who was, in all actuality, Curt, lay down next to him in the green white brown, very much like before. "I found a garden." He snuggled closer and held Brian's hand a little tighter. They both sighed. "Isn't she beauty?" He was just gazing into the blue purple pink of the sky, into the white of the clouds, into the clear of the air; he was just gazing and telling Brian beauty.

Clouds past and they got up because it was raining sunshine and they wanted to be inside for this.  

They walked together, Brian leaning into Curt leaning into Brian who felt very melty right then. The rain makes him feel that way sometimes. Makes him feel all melty sometimes. They walked home in comfortable silence.

Being wet was not a bad thing to neither Curt nor Brian. They both enjoyed the rain's cool caress, its soothing sound. They both loved the rain a lot because it reminded them of happy times, happy places. It smelled like lilies. Raining on your blue lilies. Rain was freedom.

They entered the grey room together, melty, hand in hand, and a little bit wet from the lily-shine-rain; they entered, beauty shining through. Brian closed the door gently, leaned back gently, sighed gently and blinked. Curt faced him; faced him happy and smiling and wet, but didn't kiss him yet, just gazed

_star__ gazer_

in to Brian's blue eyes. Blue because there were no other colours, just clear, undiluted blue... striking. "You're pretty when you wet, Brian." They both laughed at this, their noses touching each other. Curt began to finger Brian's brown gold yellow hair. "You have such pretty hair." Curt dipped his head down to gently lick Brian's throat. Pretty pretty throat neck line. "You taste like lilies." It made Curt smile because most people don't eat lilies, and even if they did, they probably wouldn't taste like Brian who didn't really taste like lilies, or maybe he did... Curt was getting confused now, that made him laugh even more. Loving Blue Lilies. "Yeah. You taste like lilies."

"Lilies?"

"Yeah... like the rain." Brian's head was tilted back slightly, turned to look out of the window; turning blue out there. Curt buried his head in the crook of Brian's neck. The rain was still pouring outside. Pouring hard hard like sunplay tears, hard hard rain. Curt moved his hands to Brian's neck, sliding them up, threading them in Brian's hair. Sigh. His head still buried in the crook of Brian's neck, Curt said "The rain reminds me of before."

"Mmmm. Yes."

"A lot of things have happened in the rain. A lot of things... and sometimes they'rehard... hard to remember, but Istill  love therain." Curt pulled his head from Brian's neck and kissed him gently on the lips. Feather light barely there ghost kiss, sweep of very white grey kiss. Then he slid down to his knees.

Star Gazer.

Looking up into Brian's eyes he said "Love you, Bri." First times are beautiful. Pretty words, pretty colours, pretty people. Beautiful language, soft language, sweet language. Sweet and slow and pretty, just like that; like that shy 'I Love You'.

Brian put his hand on Curt's shoulder, then neck, slowly sliding it up the back into his hair. Gently he tilted Curt's head back, exposing that pretty pretty neck throat line. And slowly slowy, he bent over to give him a searing soft kiss, stayed like that long long and softly murmured, lips still against lips 

"I love you too."

It was like that. Very pretty and very blue and almost curly, it's odd the way thing come together like that, like purple velvet or yellow roses. They loved the love which was almost like loving the rain because it came in showers and filled them up and made them melty and warm. But mostly, it was like Loving Lilies Blue. 

_________


	4. Pick Out Your Cloud

**_A/N:_**_ title taken from a tori amos song_

Pick Out Your Cloud.

Leaning against soft grey, soaking it all in. Soaking in the grey. They were against the wall leaning gently, side by side against the wall soaking in the warm grey. Brian threaded his fingers through Curt's hair. He loved the way they slipped through, slid through, swam through the silky silky locks.

It was still raining outside. Brian knew this because the windows were very large and very low to the ground. The blue and clear and green and gold had no trouble finding their way through those large windows. No, had no trouble at all finding their way in and making them warm and bright.

Curt dropped his head on to Brian's shoulder.

"It was '68." Nod.

"Ok."

"I'm sure it was '68." Nod.

"Fine."

"Briaaan." Smirk.

"What? I'm just agreeing with you." It had been going on like this for quite awhile. This playful banter dancing back and forth between them. It was quite amusing.

"Anyway," Curt said, shifting his body so that his head lay in Brian's lap, "I met Skyler in 1968. She and Mandy would have gotten along beautifully." He laughed slightly. "Skyler was... She was something else, long gorgeous black hair. And she had these incredible eyes that could just read into; explore your body inside and out. Beautiful..." His voice traveled off as though he were looking for something lost long ago. Something like youth or innocence -- innocence was stolen, while youth was lurking behind some hidden door way, one they would never find or even think to look for. Something lost on his way Here. On his way through the rain.

"What happened to her?" He asked in a slow silent kind of way, one that shouted through the silence of the room. Startling.

"She killed herself." It was blunt and hardened and yet incredibly smooth. Stunning.

"Curt... I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, I'm not." Tender. 

Curt reached his hands up, pulling Brian closer to him. Their lips brushed once, twice three times. Kiss. They pulled apart gently. "Skyler... she wasn't meant for here. I guess not meant for this world. She wasn't happy and it hurt because I thought it was my fault. I would think of all the things she used to tell me and swear it was my fault, but I realised that she was just being Skyler."

Tears were coming gently now. Flowing flowing down his cheeks. Wetting them _grey, blue and green.__ Tears for things lost and things found and for the future. He was smiling through his tears. "I just... miss her sometimes."_

"Mmm." Brian let his hand come down to rest on Curt's cheek. He cupped it gently and was pleased when Curt moved into the caress. Pleased to know that he knew him. He let his hand and fingertips roam Curt's face, gently smearing the colour and the pain, evening it all out even. And suddenly he wondered if he could taste those tears, taste those happybruisedsadsad little pain trails winding Curt's face. He moved his hands lightly to Curt's neck and just stared at him. Through all of his imperfection, Brian saw nothing but beauty. 

And oh.

How perfect was it? He didn't want perfection, no never that. Because perfection is black and perfection can be broken. No, not perfection, he just wanted Curt.

Brian leaned down and let his lips touch his cheek, tasting his tears. It was salty and yet not so much, because mostly it was **sad grey happy that he tasted and mostly he could feel the colour. He kissed his cheek again, then the other**

then his forehead

chin

neck

nose

eye

mouth. Mouth. Mouth.

He was grateful to Skyler, thankful. There was no jealousy between them, only gratitude that could be felt flowing both ways.

'Thank you Skyler.' He thought to himself. 'Thank you for taking care of him. Thank you Thank you.' And he was very thankful to her, thanking her as he straddled Curt's legs. Thankful as he kissed his mouth, raked fingers through hair, dragged teeth down neck. Thankful as he grasped both of Curt's hands in his own, as he interlaced them. 'Thank you for giving him to me.'

Their worlds were reaching a breaking point, shattering and colliding in pure, white space and he found himself chanting her name in his head over and over. It was a beautiful, splendid mantra.

_________

They let it go and there was no more talk of beautiful Skyler, although Brian wouldn't have minded. She reminded him--as much as one could be reminded of someone they never knew-- of piano music, slow and dark and ethereal, but he let it go. No more talk of Skyler or older brothers or anyone or anything else, just silence. Good silence.

Curt stood up, his form glittered and glistening. He would be the golden child of anything and everything you had ever dreamed of. He turned towards Brian and smiled, "Do you want to go for a walk?" Brian just nodded. They both got dressed quietly. Finished, Curt turned to face Brian. He walked over to him and gently lifted his chin with his fingers, raking his fingers through Brian's hair repeatedly. "Dye this." And that's all he said, grabbed Brian's hand and pulled him out the door. 'Dye this.' What cryptic blue. 'Dye this'. Brian rolled over it in his mind a few times. Tested it on his tongue. Found it appalling and amusing that he actually had to stop himself from saying the words out loud.

"Dye yours." Curt just grinned.

They walked and walked and Curt didn't tire because Curt was like that, a bundle of curious and nervous energy. 'Dye this' had indeed died from his mind and from the tip of his tongue. But. New words had formed in their place. 'I was scared.' Wow. Where did that come from? Nowhere. Neverwhere. Where ever it was they were. This place was sacred and emotional and here, with him it was ok. Ok to let it go. Except not. 

"I was scared." He blurted it out. Flying words, confused and lost and much too late. He said them quietly. Whispered to them, those secret little secrets. "I was scared." And then a little bit louder. "I hurt a lot." And suddenly he was a little boy again alone and lonely and lost. Suddenly, when no one was looking, he had been switched with himself, only different and much earlier. This was important and not and cryptic and and "I was scared." Pink and rosy rage. "I was scared!"

"I know." and that was almost enough. Almost, Almost, but really not. Especially not because no, Curt could_ know_ because he was in the dark here, in the shadow. Brian began to shake his head, but Curt stopped him, grabbing hold of his chin and placing feather like kisses on his cheeks. 

"When will you not know?!" Brian felt frantic because he needed this on and off and he was bursting beauty and strength and and colour. God. "When will you not?" Weak and desperate now, he asked again. More less, smaller and quieter and sad. Tired. "When will you not?" He sunk down to his knees sobbing; only not really because there were no tears, Brian simply didn't have any left, not for this at least. So mostly, he just felt like he couldn't breathe. "I'm dying." And maybe he was, but not really because it was only silence, only silence that was killing him and that hurt worst of all.

Curt sunk down next to Brian and held him closely. Rocking him and kissing his temple. "When will you not know?" A whisper far and gone, lingering ever so slightly. 

So. when did it come to this? Curt sighed. "When you don't tell me." He ran his hands up Brian's arms and gently whispered, his voice making Brian shake. "Show me. Show me your scars." 

Start

The

Music

Brian nodded.

_________


	5. Blue Jean Mist or Faerie Dreamings

They trudge-trudge-trudged through the thundering calm. Funny the way things are like that, like you except things to be one way and they aren't. It's funny, funny, funny and quite sad. 

Brian felt like he was melting. Felt as if he was falling down some dark squeezing tunnel to the center of his death. Brian doesn't like to fall. Doesn't like the feeling of groundlessness and. And. "Can we stop?" Brian was feeling dizzy. Dizzy in his blue jeans and white t-shirt. Dizzy in his long, short, undyed, 'dye it' hair.

"Sure." And they did. Stop. They stopped and the world stopped, colours blurring before his eyes. He reached his hand to Curt's face, stroking gently. Brian slipped his fingers into Curt's hair pulling them closer together so that they stood cheek to cheek. 

Gently he whispered, "Come down with me." His whisper swept, sweeping like the blue of silence. His whisper swept and shuddered over Curt's ears. It was sweet and Curt nodded. 

"Always." 

They walked of to the side of the path into the slightly overgrown wood and sat down, their backs against twisted trees with thick, deep roots that drank. Brian reached out and twined his fingers with Curt's. And they lay down together like before. Like in the greying calm of lily storms. Love you. "Love you." He whispered. Love you lots.

"Love you too."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Truly?" 

"Always."

"Good."

Curt smiled a silly little smile. A slight shift of his lips, so tiny you wouldn't even notice it. "Bri?"

"Mmm?"

"You're really dramatic." Brian punched him lightly.

"I know. I think... I think much too much. I think that I am simply going crazy."

"It's possible." He said it slowly and softly, the words lingered in the roots of the twisted trees being soaked up into the dirt. Brian sunk down slowly. Felt his legs evaporating into a mist of blue jean. Felt his shirt being stripped away and his bare skin, his bare back touching the cool earth. There were stories there. Stories in the earth and in his skin, in the blue jean mist that floated overhead.

"Coming?"

"I told you I would." Curt flowed, brown haired. Brian and Curt and Curt and Brian and blue. They flowed into the tree roots and got sucked, sucked, sucked up into Dream.

*

If you have heard music, you know that it seeps through the pores of the earth. That it vibrates in smooth waves. You know that it absorbs into your skin and strikes you at your soul. They were inspired. The earth was inspired in its own vibrating genius.

They came together in waves vibrated. Came together with the movement of music. The sucking of soft lips, mouths. Hands entwined. With flesh on flesh on flesh. With bodies vibrated and skin melding. Tangled hair and expanded lungs. They breathed through each other. With skin _unscarred_. 

If you have seen light, you know that it shines from with in. From centers unknown. You know that there is no sun: all light is an illusion, all except your own. You know that the sky is cluttered in fragments of glass and mirror which reflect our light. Reflect our special ness as beauties in the sky. From sources unknown. And as they stared at the sky cluttered in glass, they lay in a bed of silken flowers. 

_From here radiates light, life._

And wondered did they, light and life, 'what dangers, what calm lies ahead?'

If you have breathed air, you know that the fog keeps you living. Know that in breathing the air, you are finding your way; **_crystalline__ blue leading you with sharpened glass shards tearing down your throat. That breathing helps you survive the cold. Breathing helps you fly. In breathing you are fighting life..._**

And death...

They spread their wings, preparing for flight. And grasped hands, they arose ascending into cluttered glass sky.

Do keep breathing

*

From corners of the sky, thin shards of glass fell. Fell in the guise of snowy showers twirling through their decent. Skin met the delicate details of tiny glass snow flakes and melted it to crystallized water, forever holding the memory of the fall. It was bizarre and completely awesome. The falling of snow. Sun and snow was completely awesome.

Curt woke slowly, his body shivering lightly from the snow. His eyes glazed, "Fuck." He smiled. "Fuck." Stood. "It's snowing." Walked to the center of the road, the path, the wood and looked up. Maybe it rained a little bit. Maybe rain touched his face through the snow and the glass and the sun. Maybe he was just a little crazy too.

He called for his lover, mesmerized at the sight of this breath leaving his mouth in swirling smoking puffs. "Brian," he said with a smirk "it's fucking snowing." Brian walked towards Curt, his brown hair dusted in intricate flakes. He seemed to glow like and ethereal demon. He seemed to arrive in a cloud of _blue jean mist_. Brian smiled lightly, gripped Curt's hand tightly, whispered "Bizarre."

Curt turned to face him. "What?"

"Bizarre. Being with you is... _bizarre."_

"That good?"

Brian turned to face him. Boar into Curt with intensity; serious. "Yes."

So they stood facing each other, dusted in a cloud of intense, serious, delicate snowing ice flakes and came together for a small kiss.

_________

"I feel like I'm making this up."

"What up?"

"This." He gestured. "This everything."

"It's unreal, Demon."

Brian smiled, blushed a little at the name. It was unreal. Life was unreal. That paths had led them there through winding trail of never-ending unreal ness and that was where the beauty lay. Ahead. Unreal. 

Brian and Curt continued on the road they'd begun walking some time ago, trusting it to places unknown and possible imagine, definitely dreamt. To places dreamt.

_________

They came to the beach in a kind of loving silence. The kind that radiates from grey rooms: a smooth and silken silence. They stood at the edge of the white dusted beach, the glass crusted ocean tasting at their toes.

"I want to give you something."

"A kiss?" Smirked. Brian kissed Curt.

"No. This." And slipped from his pocket a gleaming emerald pin. "Belonged to Oscar Wilde and an alien." Sighed. "And now it belongs to you."

Curt took the tiny pin, twisted it, staring as it changed colours in the light. "I think," his voice rasped "I think you stole this from the sky."

Brian stroked it. "Maybe." His voice washed to sea. "Let me put it on you." Softly.

Curt brought his hands to Brian's neck, fingers threading through the longish tendrils that hung there. Roughly he whispered, "Gonna kiss you." And he did. Abrasively. Piercingly. It hurt Curt smashed his lips to Brian's and it was good and it comforted. 

_________

Time had passed quickly and unnoticed as the two sat on the beach, hands entwined. The snow had earlier stopped, leaving the beach shimmering and crystallized, the boys with white dusted hair. They weren't cold, not in any way they could feel. 

"The beach reminds me of her."

"And the snow?"

"Reminds you of Mandy." Turned. "And me of you." Far off look in his eyes, Curt slowly ran his fingers along the insides of arm, dancing and ghosting along his wrist. "You forget, Demon, that I've been there too." 

Brian pulled his hand away and stood with bare feet --they'd earlier thrown their shoes aside-- and toes digging into the sand. Sighed. Stared into the sky. Curt stood to meet him. Stood nose to nose with him. Stared into his eyes.

**_Blue green gold brown_**.**Red rimmed. Their hair blew together. Combined.**

"My brother did some pretty fucked up things to me. My parents did some fucked things to me. _I _did some fuck up thing to _me_." He held up his arm, marked gently in angry scars.

Brian spoke in small volumes, "I cut myself." Curt nodded his forehead knocking Brian's. He rubbed their noses together. Let their lips touch.

"Where?" 

Brian touched the insides of Curt' arm. "Here."

"You don't scar." Gently.

Laughed. "No. Ironic."

"Kinda. I love you still..."

"I know..."

_________

Everything seemed lighter and the sky seemed brighter and the ocean, where the snow had been was wet. They fucked on the beach. Twice.

"I am intrigued," he said in a horrid mock English accent, "by your hair." Held him from behind with arms wrapped around waists. His fingers crept up the front of the shirt. Brian's neck bent forward, hair falling into his eyes. Curt buried his nose and lips in his hair.

"And I, sir, am intrigued by yours." They both giggled. "Maybe-- maybe we should be heading back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." And they did head back slowly, taking their time to kiss against fading memoirs of trees and glass.

Confessed their sins and scars to the sky cluttered glass, maybe they would be free.


End file.
